


Steal the Show

by nothingelsematters



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: 5 Seconds of Summer cameo, Bri and Rog can calm him down, Fire Fight Australia, Gen, Nerves, YOU GUYS FIRE FIGHT AUSTRALIA WAS AMAZING, mentions of Freddie obviously, poor sweet Adam is nervous, the LIVE AID SET YOU GUYS, with some help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22879153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingelsematters/pseuds/nothingelsematters
Summary: Brian and Roger are thrumming with excitement. In just twenty minutes, they will go on stage to recreate the Live Aid set in front of 77,000 people - and the world on television.But where has their lead singer got to?
Relationships: Adam Lambert & Brian May & Roger Taylor
Comments: 12
Kudos: 67





	Steal the Show

**Author's Note:**

> Oh...my...god. I WROTE SOMETHING, YOU GUYS. HOLY SHIT.
> 
> Also: OH. MY. GOD. QUEEN AND ADAM LAMBERT DID THE LIVE AID SET AND I WAS THERE, YOU GUYS. (I'll never be over this, I think.)

There was a muffled roar echoing through the corridors.

Brian could feel it; feel the vibrations in the air of excitement and the taste of anticipation. The energy of the crowd was seeping through the curtains and walls, and he could feel it buzzing on his nerve endings.

Just like _that day_.

Roger was seated across from him, twirling his drumsticks absently, as beautiful and focused as he had been that day at Wembley. His blue eyes were bright; Brian knew he felt it too, felt this quiet aura that was settling over the stadium. A different stadium, half a world away from Wembley - but also open to the sky.

"Dr May, sir?"

Brian glanced up as Pete poked his head around the doorway into the sitting room.

"Pete?"

"Twenty minutes, sir. The last band's about to finish and we're about to start setting up."

"Thanks, Pete." Brian had long since given up on trying to get Pete to call him by name, and dispense with the sir. He looked over at Roger, who nodded.

"Let's get Adam and start getting ready."

They passed Neil and Tyler, both warming up quietly in one corner of the room. Brian could feel the same buzzing energy radiating off them that was now bouncing off the walls, and couldn't help his grin.

As they rounded the corner, the previous band had just come off stage. Brian quickly racked his brain for the memory of their name - one of the great and yet at the same time frustrating things about this event was the sheer number of local artists who he just didn't know - before spotting it on a drumstick being held by a man almost literally pouring sweat. _5 Seconds of Summer._

"Hey, you were great," Roger told the drummer with a smile, and the band's faces all shifted into an expression Brian knew very well, though he was always surprised they could inspire it. "I could feel the stage vibrating from here."

"T-thankyou, Mr Taylor, sir," the drummer managed to say, and everyone smiled as they knew he was holding back with all his might from gushing.

"I can't wait for your set," the lead singer grinned, and the bassist was bouncing on his toes. "I'm glad we're not after you."

Brian chuckled after them as the band scurried off. "They looked like they played hard."

"I saw part of the set on the TV in the corner," Roger replied. "They did."

Adam's door was closed, which wasn't unusual. What _was_ unusual, though, was that when Brian knocked - in a distinct pattern to let Adam know it was him - there was no answer.

No cheery _come in!_. No squeak of _not yet I'm not dressed!_ or growl of _doing my makeup_!. Just...silence.

"Adam?" Brian knocked again, and leaned closer to the door. "Adam, are you in there?"

Silence.

Brian frowned at the door. He knew it wouldn't be locked. They normally respected Adam's privacy. But this was so unusual, that his hand was on the knob before he even realised.

"Adam?"

No answer.

Now getting worried, Brian opened the door.

"Oh, Adam," he sighed.

Their lead singer - their handsome, confident, plucky lead singer - was slumped forward in his chair, his face buried in his hands, shaking.

Roger swiftly closed the door behind them and in one move had crossed to wrap his arms around him. When Adam looked up, his eyeliner was smudged and there was no colour in his cheeks, and he looked years younger than he was - almost a boy.

"Are you okay?"

Adam bit his lip, then slowly shook his head and took a deep breath. He plastered a fake smile on.

"Sure! I was just thinking. How long do we have?"

"Around fifteen minutes," and Brian noticed the way Adam's cheeks paled further, though the fake smile never flickered.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Adam's voice was pitched falsely high. "I'm fine, everything's fine, it's totally fine!"

"Adam," Roger said sternly. "It's not fine. Sit down, and talk to us."

The fake smile cracked, and Adam bit his lip again.

Finally, after a silence of minutes, he whispered, "What if they hate it?"

Brian knew immediately what Adam was talking about. It was a risk, they knew, to do the Live Aid set again. Too many people still didn't accept Adam's position in the band; too many people still didn't accept Adam's place in Queen's _legacy_. And there would be too many who would say that they should never have done the Live Aid set without Freddie.

But he'd thought Adam had conquered that fear. He'd conquered it while touring, years ago, when they had had to fetch him from his dressing room like this many times; but on reflection, this was unlike anything else they'd done. On the outside, Adam was cocksure, confident, full of swagger; but underneath, he was quiet, and sensitive, all too aware of what was said about him.

"Then they're idiots," Roger said firmly, breaking into Brian's thoughts. "Adam, dear, you had them eating out of the palm of your hand last night on this very stage!"

"But these aren't Queen fans," Adam twisted his hands together. "They came to see the others, too."

Roger scowled and pulled Adam across to the comfy lounge, so they could wedge him between them; Adam melted almost instantly, safe in the embrace of the two father-figures he loved.

"We're all taking a risk," Brian said. Roger was fiddling with his phone; Brian knew better than to ask his erstwhile lover what he was doing. "If this doesn't work, then it won't just come back on you - in fact, Roger and I will _make sure_ it doesn't. We'll pitch it to the press as our idea; that you were unsure but we insisted. They'll buy it. But Adam, this _will_ work. You're so incredibly talented that it can't _not_ work. You're going to go out there, and have that crowd sing to you, and maybe, we can give you a taste of that day."

"And if you don't believe us," Roger piped up, having finished with his phone, "You'll believe him."

He held up the screen to show John's soft, smiling face, clearly in his pyjamas and wrapped in a blanket on the couch.

"Hello, Adam."

"Mr - Mr _Deacon_!" Adam's eyes widened in shock. He'd only ever met John twice. And he'd never been sure if John liked him or not.

"John, if you please." John's smile softened further, the eyes of the father looking on Adam's face with concern. "Are you all right?"

Adam took a deep breath. "Have Brian and Roger told you what we're doing?"

"Of course," John answered mildly. "Who do you think suggested it?"

Adam's jaw dropped. After a moment, he squeaked, "You - _you_ suggested it? That I - that _I_ sing that set?"

"Of course. It felt perfectly appropriate. Besides, I think only your voice could do it justice now."

Brian noticed some of the colour coming back into Adam's face.

"You - think I can do this?"

"No," John paused. "I know you can do this." After a beat, he said quietly, "And I think Freddie would have been proud to see you do this."

"Do you think so?" Adam whispered.

"I'm sure of it. Now," John smiled widely, "go punch a hole in the sky. All of you," he added, and his eyes met Brian's for a moment. Then the screen went black.

Adam jumped off the couch.

"Oh god, I have to fix my eyeliner!"

"Sit down, I'll do it for you," Roger offered, and Adam took his seat before the mirror. His face was full of colour again, his eyes sparkling. Brian was proud. Sometimes, Adam just needed a little boost, a reminder that he was loved. And the domestic scene of his Rog touching up Adam's makeup was all too domestic - and all too familiar.

"Are you two ready?"

"Almost - just one last -" Adam quickly dabbed some more bronzer on his (unfairly pretty, Brian thought) cheekbones; he gave himself a once-over in the mirror. "There! Let's roll!"

Gone was the nervous boy, and Brian and Roger followed Adam as he strutted - there really was no other word for it - towards the stage entrance. As they got closer, the muffled hum started turning into a buzzing roar. Somewhere in the crowd, groups of people were trying to start the rhythm of We Will Rock You, which only made Roger grumble. "They keep speeding up!"

And then...

"QUEEN AND ADAM LAMBERT!"

The roaring scream of the crowd nearly blasted them off their feet as they ran on stage.

*

Brian was well into his guitar solo, preparing to make the change to Radio Gaga, when he spotted Adam again, and saw, for a brief moment, uncertainty in his eyes.

"It's okay," Brian whispered, knowing Adam would never hear him but get the message anyway. Behind him, Roger caught Adam's eye and nodded.

And Brian struck the opening chords to Radio Gaga.

It took a few moments. Brian could see the realisation ripple through the crowd like he'd thrown a stone in the water. And then, as the synth beats rang out, he saw the ripple coming back.

Adam took a momentary step backwards as the shockwave of sound hit, and Brian saw his face light up in a smile - a genuine, happy, delighted smile.

The crowd wasn't upset in the slightest.

They were _screaming_. Some were crying. Others were visibly freaking out with excitement.

They knew. They knew what they were doing, and _they loved it._

And as Adam started singing again, they started singing louder, completely under the spell of Adam...and Queen.

*

The set was electric. Brian hadn't felt that energy in a long time.

Well...thirty five years, in fact.

Adam strutted around the stage, all nerves gone. The crowd sang to him, and he sang back. When he held a note, the crowd cheered. How had he ever worried? This was where he belonged. This was what he was born to do. He was Queen's legacy, their gift, the one who would carry it on when they were gone, the one who never replaced Freddie but stood alongside him, bringing his own talents and personality to their iconic work. For the second night in a row, he had more than seventy thousand people staring at him adoringly, both old and young.

He would never stop being grateful for this chance.

And as he belted We Are The Champions to the rafters, he saw a break in the clouds overhead.

A hole in the sky, with a single star shining through.

Adam smiled, then looked out at the crowd. The roaring, screaming, crying crowd, made up of people who'd been through so much, but still poured their love out to him.

He looked back up at the star, and drew a deep breath. He wanted Freddie to hear this.

"...of the _wooooooooooooooooooooorld!_ "

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first of all, I'd like to apologise for my unexpected, unexplained, unplanned, extended writing break. The tl;dr version is that with a lot going on in my personal life late last year, I effectively mentally burned out and started having just about panic attacks looking at my tumblr inbox. I also ended up having use my writing skill to earn extra money between September and January, leaving no room for creativity. I'm so sorry I basically ghosted you all.
> 
> Hopefully, at some near point, I will finish Calling All Boys. I know I left it on a sort of cliffhanger.


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